


Another Chance

by Kirusan



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fall of the skrull rule, M/M, Sins of Omission, kiyaar, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2365916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirusan/pseuds/Kirusan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some elements in here that I borrowed from Kiyaar's "Sins of Omission" since I love it so much. But this is not tied into it in anyway. Just something I came out with. Heh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Chance

Everything around him is absorbed in flames. He looks around to see that everything he's worked so hard for is turning into nothing but ashes. Weeks, no months, of working him, torturing him, of loving him, now all of it is gone. Nothing more than a memory. 

An explosion to his left rattles his body and brings him back from his reminiscing memories with _him_. But none of that is important anymore. He has to find her, his queen, and get out of here as soon as possible. If they wanted to live that is. The flames are engulfing everything around him with each passing second, making it difficult to maneuver somewhere where the heat isn't eating at his flesh. _Is this what he felt with the hot iron?_ he thinks to himself. No, it was probably worse. He remembers how _he_ screamed as hot iron hit flesh. How _he_ kept screaming until his blood muffled them. It was beautiful. _'Ive always loved you in red.'_

More explosions bring him back. If only they wouldn't. He was enjoying himself. Enjoys remembering how _he_ would spit up blood. How he would watch as tears would stream down _his_ face, watch as his eyes would glaze over with defeat. 'K'arr'n', _he_ whispers. No. _He_ never sees him. _He_ sees only that damned soldier, it's always the soldier and never him. 

He hears his name again. It wasn't _him_ after all and he's disappointed.

He looks around and sees her, bathing in her own blood, but it's all wrong. It's not red. No it wouldn't be now would it. After all, it's not _his_ blood. He rushes to her side and shifts the debris that had fallen on her when this whole mess had started. Her coughs are so rasp. She's inhaled too much smoke, he thinks. They need to get out of here or they are both going to die. 

He lifts her body and is rewarded with a shattering gasp. No, it's not right again. He wraps her arm around the back of his neck and drags her limp body through dancing flames. He feels his muscles burn with each steps he takes. It's only then that he realizes the gash on his abdomen. When did that happen? He doesn't remember allowing himself to become injured. Instinctively, he grabs at his chest and can still feel the raised skin from when that damned animal attacked him. The animal and that woman. He feels the blood rush to his ears making them ring unbearably. If they hadn't stopped him, he would still be here, he would still be his, and none of this would be happening now. Still his. 

He makes it to the window. Grabs his gun and blasts the thing to dust. He gasps in the clean air greedily. He's coughing because it's too much of a good thing at once. He's able to see clearly now, but then wishes that he couldn't. He sees his brothers and sisters fighting for their lives. The Avengers aren't only keeping them at bay, but their taking lives as well. 

The Thunderer strikes his hammer into skrull ships, knocking them out of the sky like flies. It's almost like he is almost doing it for the fun of it. He's assisted by that blasted woman with blond hair. Looks like Veranke didn't do her part very well either. Now the blond is blasting down ships or grounding them with her fists, leaving those on the ground to finish the job. 

It's then that he sees _him. He_ is in one of his older suits. It's all that he has now that he can't use extremis. He watches him as he soars in the air, blasting everything in sight. He watches as the Avengers ground their war ship. They've failed. It looks like they aren't going to take this world. It looks like he's not going to take _him_ either. He falls back into the building with his queen and finds somewhere safe. 

\---

His skin is no longer green. It's now a pale ivory and black hair. She has taken a similar appearance. They can hide their identity, but they could not hide their wounds. Veranke is still slung over his shoulders, drifting in and out of consciousness, still pestering him to get her out of here. Of course, it would look suspicious if they did leave when everyone else is gathering. It's not like their wounds are going to give them away as the enemy. It doesn't seem to matter because everyone around them is injured one way or another, civilians and supers alike. They fit in like everyone else.

The battle is over, and everyone he come to this planet with is probably drowning in their own blood by now, either that or they are wishing to be. They're no doubt that they are dead though. He's sure that if any of the Skrulls that are captured are going to have a hard life a head of them now. Who knows what the humans are going to do with them to learn their secrets. He wishes that they will be strong, but really he knows their not. The cowards.

He can see the humans have started to gather to celebrate their victory, but no one seems to express it. No one seems to be happy. They almost look angry and hateful. 

The sound of rushing wind brings his attention away. He watches _him_ as he lands down on blood and rubble, watches as _He_ throws his helmet off as if he's afraid of it. That's because _he_ is. He did that. He made sure of that. He made sure that _he_ would be haunted by his memories of when the armor became sentient and tried to take _him_ as it's own. How the armor would pose everyone close to him as a threat and would neutralize them if it seemed necessary. He watches as _he_ stares at the helmet as if it was going to jump at him. It's then that the soldier and the Thunderer approach him. They are exchanging words with _him_ , but from the looks of their faces, it is not a conversation that _he_ is enjoying. His face is masked of any emotions as the Soldier and Thunderer exchange what might be hostile words. He thinks that they might be blaming _him_. The other Avengers seem to come out of no where and draw near the three, but not approaching. Just waiting on the sidelines to see what's going to happen next. 

He hears the people around him cursing how everything is their fault. That this should have never happened. How they were supposed to protect them from the start. They bicker for a long time as if they should have any say. Eventually, it becomes Stark's fault. _He_ should have seen the invasion coming. _He_ should have protected them. _He_ should have prevented any of this from happening. It's all Stark's fault. He is responsible. Now they are saying that he's a traitor, that he was working with the Skrulls. That _he_ was trying to save his own skin. But they don't know that _his_ skin no longer belongs to _him_. Its his, and it will always be so. 

Something brings his attention back to the three men just in time to see the Thunderer scowl at _him_ and walk away. But what surprises him is how the Soldier is also walking away from _him_. This was the man who broke into the tower and stole _him_ away, who fought to protect _him_ in that cave, who looked after _him_ when none of the others would even bother to have anything to do with him. And now he is turning his back on _him_. Leaving _him_ to fight his demons on his own. The rest of the Avengers seem to get the idea and they too seem to disperse in their own directions. None looking at _him_ unless it is to penetrate him with their own glares. _He_ is alone once again. 

He watches _him_ stand there alone. He knows that _he_ can hear the civilians blaming him for what's happened. He knows that _he_ can feel the glaring eyes of everyone around. And _he_ takes it. _He_ agrees. _He_ stands there for a long time until _he_ finally collects his helmet and flies away. He watches him go and exhales a deep breath. _He_ is alone, no one is going to help _him_. No one is going to save _him_. No one. 

"Don't worry. You won't be alone." He says. "I will come back for you Tony. And I will save you." 

He's still staring at the sky where he flew away, but he is no longer in sight, but he still keeps staring. 

"I'm the only one who can."


End file.
